


Whatever You Do, Don’t Look Down

by theroyalsavage



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Meetings, Fluff, Howl's Moving Castle AU, I'm so sorry, M/M, basically this is just fluffy bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4643268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theroyalsavage/pseuds/theroyalsavage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kageyama swallows a fallen star, an ungainly castle prowls abandoned hills, and Hinata Shouyou is determined to explore and conquer a land known best for its inhabitants: witches.</p><p>(A Howl's Moving Castle AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever You Do, Don’t Look Down

The children of Market Chipping are given only two rules when they grow up; the first is to be obedient and respectful, and the second is to stay out of the Wastes.

Throughout his entire life, Hinata Shouyou has heard the whispers, words passed hand-to-hand in the darkness. They say the Wastes are badlands, unnaturally barren, and that the only living things who stalk the rolling hills are wrong. Evil. Twisted.

(Witches.)

Shouyou eats the stories up. He vows to his foster parents - to everyone who’ll listen - that he’ll be the first to go out there, to explore and survive and make it back without being warped. And Daichi always chuckles and ruffles his hair, but Suga’s face grows worried, and his mouth presses into a thin, nervous line.

“Hinata,” he says, “I need you to promise me you’ll stay away from there. It’s dangerous. The Great Wizard will eat your heart.”

Shouyou’s eyes widen and he jumps a little in place. “Kageyama?” he says. The syllables seem to carry physical weight on his tongue, seeping with music and magic and the taste of the Wastes. “Don’t worry, Suga-san. He doesn’t scare me. And, anyway, they say he only eats the hearts of  _pretty_  people.” Shouyou grins. “So I’ll be fine.”

Suga’s expression doesn’t change. If anything, he grows more grim.

 

Years pass. Shouyou takes up work in the hatter’s shop. The kingdom goes to war, and the sky fills with ships and flags and propaganda pamplets, issued by the king. Burning ballistae take the place of sunsets. The Wastes remain untouched, gray and lifeless and infinite.

Things change when Shouyou is seventeen, still slight and short and nimble, his voice too loud, his hair too orange. He is in the marketplace on his way to work, dodging into an empty cobblestone street to avoid the crowds, when a hand closes on his shoulder. He finds himself staring into the eyes of a very, very tall man with a smile like a firecracker and a crown of aggressively messy black hair.

“Where are you headed, shrimpy?” he asks, and his voice is silken, close to a purr.

“To work,” Shouyou says shortly. “Let me go.”

“Aw, don’t be like that.” He pats Shouyou’s head, draws his fingers through Shouyou’s hair.

“You’re scaring him, Kuro,” a quiet voice points out from behind the tall guy’s shoulder.

“Nah, don’t worry, Kenma. He doesn’t look that scared to me. Are you scared, shrimpy?”

Shouyou balls his hands into fists and is about to either punch the guy in the face or sprint in the other direction when another voice breaks through the tension, loud and brass and dripping with derision.

“Oi. I’ve been looking for you everywhere. What the hell are you doing?”

Shouyou blinks, and suddenly he finds himself tucked against a different chest. The newcomer is a lot taller than Shouyou, with silky black hair and eyes the color of the sky at nighttime. They’re leagues deep, impossibly deep, and they lock onto Shouyou’s assailant, who takes a surprised step backwards and removes his hand from Shouyou’s shoulder.

“He’s with me,” the newcomer says flatly. Shouyou has no idea what the fuck is going on.

Reeling slightly, Shouyou lets the blue-eyed boy steer him away from the cat-like one. It takes several seconds for the shock to set in, for the implications of a potential kidnapping to worm down into his bones. His shoulders are shaking a little, his insides twisting like his body wants to rend itself in two.

His breathing breaks, shatters. His rescuer’s hand is too hot on his wrist.

(If this is how he reacts to two men in a deserted alley, how is he ever going to defeat the king of the wizards, the strongest man in the Wastes?)

“Move faster,” his rescuer mutters. When Shouyou stumbles, the guy wraps an arm around his waist and helps him up. His shoulders are stiff, his jaw gritted down, and he tosses glances behind them every once in awhile, like he’s expecting them to be followed.

And then a shadow ripples weirdly behind them, bubbling and frothing like water boiling in a pot, and he lets loose a string of swear words.

Figures emerge from the walls, from the ground around their feet, gelatinous and oily, dripping black liquid from their bodies, thick and scented of copper and ink. One lunges for Shouyou and his rescuer sidesteps, tugging Shouyou along with him roughly.

“Hold on tight,” is the only warning he gives before they are lifting into the air, propelled forward by nothing but wind.

Shouyou’s stomach drops down to his toes.

“Stay calm,” he growls. “Extend your legs and walk like normal. No, not like that, moron, like  _this_ -”

Some of Shouyou’s fear subsides as the city spreads out below his feet, sprawling like an enormous beast. He doesn’t plummet downwards, doesn’t fall - his rescuer’s fingers are gentle, an anchor on his wrist, and the world opens up below them, and Shouyou is flying.

He’s  _flying_.

The coil of terror inside his chest breaks. He can breathe again.

“Oh, my God, this is  _incredible_ , how are we doing this, how do we stay up, can I do this without you, are you a wizard, what were those things back there, oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my  _God_ -”

His rescuer seems a little overwhelmed by Shouyou’s sudden burst of energy. His face is hard, serious, his eyebrows wrinkled in the middle. (It took Shouyou until now to notice, but he’s pretty handsome, in a grumpy kind of way.)

And then he says, “Can you shut up? You’re making it hard to concentrate.”

Shouyou sticks his tongue out at him. “We’re flying, though. We’re  _flying_! This is amazing. You’re amazing!”

“Amazing,” his rescuer repeats. His eyes follow Shouyou, baffled and annoyed and maybe something else, something Shouyou can’t name.

He drops him off at Suga and Daichi’s bakery, and Shouyou is sure he isn’t imagining it when his hand lingers on Shouyou’s wrist and his eyes linger on Shouyou’s face.

“Stay out of trouble,” he growls. “I won’t help again.”

 

That night, a stranger arrives at the hat shop just after closing time, surrounded by bulbous figures built from ink. He’s tall and willowy and probably the most beautiful person Shouyou’s ever seen, draped in gaudy clothing and followed by a footman in uniform with thick arms and a deep scowl.

“So this is the human that caught Tobio-chan’s eye,” the stranger drawls, his eyes raking up and down Shouyou’s body. “What do you think, Iwa-chan?”

“This is stupid,” Iwa-chan the footman observes. “You’ve got better things to be doing with your time.”

The stranger shrugs dismissively. “Mean, Iwa-chan. Are you my mom?” He steps closer to Shouyou, who crosses his arms over his chest and glowers. “Hmmm. I don’t think he looks like much at all. Pretty tiny, if you ask me.” His face twists into a smile. “A nothing.”

“We’re closed,” Shouyou says. “And I’m not  _a nothing_.”

“Oh, but you are.” He looms closer, his grin disturbingly like the man at the market. “You’re a human. You’ll wither away and die, just like the rest of them.”

He sweeps out of the shop that night like a grand king walks to his coronation, leaving Shouyou wizened and arthritic and furious. The curse is binding, non-negotiable; he has turned into an old man, and he can’t tell anyone the truth until he finds a way to break it.

“Wow,” he says, looking in the mirror. “Wow. I fucking hate magic.”

He can still hear the Witch of the Waste’s laughter.

 

He makes his way to the Wastes, leaving a note for Suga and Daichi and taking some money for supplies and for meals. Even  _walking_ is a burden now, a thought that makes his chest hurt, because before, his athleticism was all he had.

He leaves Market Chipping behind. The Wastes become his world.

 

Shouyou isn’t quite sure how it happens, but he ends up cleaning house in the legendary moving castle of the Great Wizard Kageyama.

He sort of can’t even believe the castle exists. Mostly because it  _makes_   _no sense_. Impossibly huge and ungainly, shuffling its way through the rolling hills of the Wastes like some kind of giant, metallic spider, it grumbles and rumbles and stops right in front of Shouyou, a door opening in its underbelly like a promise.

 _Maybe I really am supposed to defeat this guy_ , Shouyou thinks. And then he remembers he’s about a thousand years old and can’t even stand up straight.

The interior of the castle is like nothing he’s ever seen - coated with grime, nameless objects covering every surface, the air scented faintly but unmistakably with magic. There’s the fire spirit, Tanaka, who seems scary at first but takes to Shouyou quickly when Shouyou compliments his ability to move the castle. There’s Nishinoya, Kageyama’s assistant, who calls Shouyou “gramps” and seems to possess nearly boundless energy - a person after Shouyou’s own heart.

A night passes, and then two. Shouyou cleans to keep himself busy and in motion. Noya shows him some basic spells. Tanaka teaches him to whistle.

And then he meets Kageyama.

(Or, he should say, then he meets Kageyama  _again_.)

He’s less surprised than he probably should be when the famously terrifying Great Wizard Kageyama turns out to be the same man who saved him at the marketplace. He allows Shouyou to stay in his home out of what feels less like kindness and more like apathy, but there’s something in the way he looks at Shouyou that sets Shouyou’s mind on fire. Like he sees a hint of the boy Shouyou used to be through the old man he’s become.

“What’s your name?” he asks, just as serious and scowly and handsome as he was on the day that they met.

“Hinata,” Shouyou tells him. “But Noya-san’s been calling me gramps, so I guess you could call me that, too. If you wanted.”

Kageyama shakes his head. “No. That’s fine. Hinata.” His name sounds light on Kageyama’s tongue. Like sunlight. “Hinata’s fine.”

Shouyou nods. He feels a little dazed, and he can’t tell whether this is because of his joints aching or because Kageyama’s eyes seem to stare right through him, right into his soul.

“You can stay if you want. Just keep out of my way,” Kageyama says. “And don’t break anything.”

“I won’t. I’m not an idiot, you know,” Shouyou snaps. “And you shouldn’t eat my heart, by the way. It would taste terrible. I’m an old man, not a pretty girl.”

Kageyama’s mouth twists downwards.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m not interested in your heart.”

“Well, that’s just rude, Kageyama-kun.”

“Shut up, dumbass.”

 

A week passes, and then two.

And then he finds that his arthritis is less painful, his back less stooped, his voice less raspy. The curse begins to retreat, Tanaka giving his two cents every now and again, Nishinoya inspecting him like a science experiment. And Shouyou starts to memorize Kageyama, all the bits and pieces of him - the way his eyes change color like the sky before a storm, the way he retreats into his shell when things don’t go his way, the way his voice is harsh but his hands are painfully gentle.

They reach an uneasy symbiosis. Kageyama yells at him and Shouyou yells back, and Kageyama sulks and Shouyou cleans, and, somehow, Shouyou finds himself sitting at Kageyama’s bedside while the wizard whispers about the war.

“Last time,” he says, “they had me enlist. Made me give myself mind, body, and soul to the king. But magic doesn’t come without a price, and I almost lost myself.”

“You mean you almost died?” Shouyou gasps, horrified.

Kageyama shakes his head. “No. Not like that. It’s difficult to explain… It’s more like, transformation spells take pieces of you with them, whenever you change. Becoming something you’re not alters you. I almost wasn’t able to become myself again.”

“Oh,” Shouyou whispers. He thinks of his old body, his vibrant hair, his rapid movements, his agile frame. What if he can never become himself again?

“I’m afraid,” Kageyama continues. “Afraid of dying. Of being defeated. Of losing myself. I’m a coward.”

Shouyou says, “You saved my life.”

“That didn’t take courage.” Kageyama frowns at him.

“No, but it took kindness.”

Kageyama blinks at him. He bites his lip, worries at it before saying, very quietly, “Last time I fought, my subordinates abandoned me, left me on the field to die. I can’t do it again.”

“I can help you,” Shouyou says without thinking.

Kageyama snorts. “I doubt it.”

They start bickering again after that, but their relationship is unalterably, unquestionably changed. And Shouyou is beginning to feel like himself again.

 

When Kageyama shows him the meadows of his childhood, he gives Shouyou something much, much more important than a safe haven, a beautiful retreat.

(He smiles at him for the first time - a real, honest, happy smile. Not creepy and dangerous. Not half-assed and frightening. It takes root in Shouyou’s soul.)

“If anything happens to me,” Kageyama says. “Come here. Don’t look for me. And take care of Noya and Tanaka - god knows they need it.”

“Why are you trusting me with this?” Shouyou demands. “I’m not important, or young, or strong. I’m nothing.”

Kageyama scowls.

“Bullshit. You’re not nothing. I wouldn’t put my faith in you if you were completely useless. What kind of idiot do you take me for?”

Shouyou blinks. And then he snorts. And then he bursts into full-on giggles, doubling over to grasp at his stomach. “Jeez, Kageyama. That was the most backhanded compliment I’ve ever received.”

Kageyama looks like he can’t decide whether to yell at Shouyou or kill him. But then his glower wavers, and the smile breaks across his face like a sunrise, and Shouyou can’t breathe.

The smile transforms Kageyama entirely. Shouyou never wants to stop looking.

 

In the end, Shouyou disguises himself as Kageyama’s father and goes to the palace to give the wizard’s excuses to the king. It doesn’t go quite as planned, and the king’s head sorcerer gives Shouyou something rather weighty as a parting gift.

“Tell me,” Akaashi says. “How long ago did Kageyama steal your heart?”

“He never ate my heart,” Shouyou protests. “He promised he wouldn’t.”

“That’s not,” Akaashi murmurs, “what I said.”

Hinata Shouyou is in love with Kageyama Tobio, and, much like most of what’s happened to him these past few weeks, he’s not sure he understands how it happened.

 

The war comes to a bloody, violent, fiery end. Kageyama saves Shouyou’s life, a thousand times over - a million. And then his worst nightmares come to fruition. Because Shouyou is weak. Because he needs protecting. Because he can’t do anything.

Kageyama falls.

Shouyou finds himself at the feet of a monstrous crow with Kageyama’s face. His eyes are blank, his mouth untouched by a scowl, his forehead unwrinkled. A shell.

Shouyou does the only thing he can do. He kisses him, gently, stupidly. Right on the lips.

“Come back to me,” he begs.

The world falls apart.

And, somehow, it comes back together again.

In the end, he cradles Tanaka in his hands, crouching in front of Kageyama’s lifeless body. A shooting star, a fire demon, exchanged for power, life, strength. Hope.

“I’m ready,” Tanaka shouts. “Let’s get this over with.”

With that, Shouyou returns Kageyama’s heart to his body. He wakes up slowly, his eyelashes (long and dark and delicate) fluttering gracefully, prettily against his cheeks. His face contorts and he clutches at his chest, clawing at it.

“What’s wrong with him?” Noya gasps.

Shouyou remembers something Suga told him, a long, long time ago. A lifetime ago. “A heart’s a heavy burden,” he whispers.

Kageyama’s eyes open. They contain universes, the entire cosmos, thousands of galaxies splattered with stars.

“Hinata,” he says, and when he reaches out to touch Shouyou’s cheek, it occurs to the smaller boy that his skin is once again unblemished, his hair curly and too long, his back straight.

“How?” he asks, reaching up to grasp Kageyama’s hand. “How did I-?”

Kageyama smiles slightly. “You learned to love yourself. And you learned to love me, too. You broke the curse on your own.” He shrugs, and then winces. “I sort of figured you might.”

“My hair used to be orange,” he pouts.

Kageyama laughs and brushes his fingers through Shouyou’s bangs. “I know. This is fine, though.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Shouyou scoffs. “Wow. How romantic.”

 Kageyama rolls his eyes. “You’re beautiful, you idiot. Like starlight.”

Shouyou kisses him, and Kageyama kisses back this time, a hint of a smile twisting his lips upwards. Noya groans and Tanaka cheers, and Kageyama is warm and alive and  _real_ , and they’re alive.

In the end, they’re all alive.

(If not exactly unchanged.)

**Author's Note:**

> This is so frickin ridiculous but I couldn't get it out of my head forgive me


End file.
